


One More Short Stick

by AppleCherry108



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleCherry108/pseuds/AppleCherry108
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only one thing you want more than to be selfish and that's to see Roxy Lalonde happy, and unfortunately the two are mutually exclusive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Don't be sad, it's not okay to be sad. A very long time ago you had to promise yourself to never be sad ever again. You had to do it for her. Your name is CRONUS AMPORA and you are trying very, very hard to be a good friend. There's only one thing you want more than to be selfish and that's to see Roxy Lalonde happy, and unfortunately the two are mutually exclusive. You've known Roxy since forever, you two practically grew up together, and you've been best friends your entire lives. You went through your wizard phase together, your unfortunate rebellious teen phase--you've both settled down quite a bit since high school. Quite literally in her case as you are shuffling your feet anxiously staring down the aisle waiting to catch the first glimpse of her in her ridiculously poofy ball gown of a wedding dress.

Well, so is John, but fuck that guy. You would stab him six times in the chest to be standing where he is, he is the groom after all, and you're just some weird male substitute for a maid of honor. You've always been there for Roxy. You were there when her first boyfriend dumped her, when her late girlfriend passed away--you've been there as her shoulder to cry on for every lousy short stick she's ever drawn, and you wish to god that just once you could've been one of those short sticks. You two had always been close, really close, but it became obvious to you early on that you loved her in a very different way than she loved you. Sometimes you got to "win" though--you took her to junior prom for lack of a real date, you were her first kiss when you two were nine and wanted to know what kissing was like. You even got to share her bed at sleepovers and hold her through the night and no one thought it was weird. Really, no one, and that happened again just the other week. An engaged woman let you sleep in her bed and cuddle her for eight and a half hours, how was that okay? Seriously, even John was fine with it, you hate how okay he is with you and your intimate relationship with his soon-to-be wife. If you were in his shoes you would've ripped his dick off. Then again, only you know that when Roxy was asleep you would press little butterfly kisses to the back her neck and tell her how much you loved her. You are entirely certain that if John knew that he would bludgeon you to death with a hammer.

You shift your weight to your other foot and clear your throat; it feels like this processional has been going on for four hours. This is absurd, you went to all the rehearsals, you helped planned this wedding for god's sake, and yet you can't remember why there are two flower girls let alone who these teenagers following behind them are. Maybe you're hallucinating. Maybe you passed out from stress twenty minutes ago and are being rushed to the hospital post haste. You give yourself a grumbling sigh because you know that isn't the case because you would never ruin this day for Roxy. Ever. You'd sooner throw yourself off a cliff than crash her big day. You turn to look at the groomsmen. All four of them look bored out of their minds and you quietly scoff at their complete and utter lack of respect for this beautiful ceremony. Oh shit John is smiling at you.

You try to smile back but you just sort of bare your teeth aggressively instead. John chuckles quietly and leans a bit closer to you. "Don't sweat it, it'll be over before you know it," he whispers. You have to use all your will power not to sneer at him because aren't you the one who's supposed to be telling him that? It's like he's taunting you at finally and definitively losing the love of your life. Or maybe he's just as acutely aware as you are that you are the only person in the bride's party. All of Roxy's female friends are either dead, in jail, or out of the country, leaving this nice open space for you to subvert wedding tradition. You think it's probably the latter since John is a super nice guy and you have this nasty habit of projecting your awful emotions onto other people. Or maybe he's an asshole, yeah no, he's definitely just an asshole.

The quartet in the corner suddenly switches key and begins playing the bridal march. Not the traditional one, some pop song that Roxy knew backwards and forwards and decided that if anything was to be played for her entrance it had to be her favorite song. The string quartet had been your idea. John had just wanted a simple organ player but you argued that a quartet would be more memorable. In truth you just knew that a good cello could melt Roxy's heart. The entire congregation rises as the doors to the pavilion open and the bride finally emerges. Time seems to stop as all the air in your lungs rushes out into one single awe-inspired "wow."

That was not the dress she was supposed to be wearing. The gown she had been set on was a huge marshmallow affair with sleeve poofs the size of her head and a train that stretched to the parking lot. But this, this was the mermaid dress you had advocated for. You had said it was perfect for her--it showed off her slender neck and shoulders, emphasized her bust without making her waist look disproportionate, and the hem of the skirt fell just at her ankles, perfectly displaying her pair of bedazzled wedges that she bought when she was sixteen in a drunken fit of, "I will wear these shoes at my wedding god dammit!" She was stunning, you were having trouble remembering how to breathe until your eyes met with hers. A chill ran up your spine and for a single moment you felt like she had done this all for you, as if to say she changed her mind and would you kindly knock John out of the way because I've made a terrible mistake. You shake your head, turning to see John's reaction. He looks just as enamored as you, but you know he could stand to be a little more appreciative of his bride.

Roxy stops in front of you, kissing your cheek as she hands off her bouquet. You try your best to linger without drawing too much attention--any excuse to press your lips to her skin one last time before she's gone for good. She smells good too. She's wearing her favorite rose-scented perfume, the one you got for her sometime in college. You would think it out of place if it weren't for the fact that more than half the things she owns you got for her. She turns to face John, and the priest begins the ceremony. When they come to the part about speak now or forever hold your peace, you lightly clear your throat. Luckily for everyone in attendance it goes unnoticed and you manage not to make a complete ass of yourself once again by only a near miss.

It all goes by so fast and before you know it everyone is cheering and clapping, and you just barely recognize the words, "Mr. and Mrs. John Egbert" shouted above all the commotion. You feel light-headed, dizzy. Everything is swirling around you and you have trouble walking back down the aisle with the processional, just a few steps behind Roxy. You feel like you can't breathe and the tightness in your throat sinks into your chest when John and Roxy drive away, a 'just married' banner fluttering behind them. You watch them go, watch the road after you can no longer see them. You realize you still have Roxy's bouquet and mourning grips your heart.

You feel empty, as if a void has settled in where affection once resided. What will you do now? Certainly not try to move on, you'll never be able to love someone else like you love Roxy. Maybe you'll get another chance, though. You're disgusted with yourself for thinking this, even wishing for it, but a dark, hateful part of you hopes it won't work out, that maybe in a year or two they'll split up, and just like every other short stick in her life, you'll be there to pick up the pieces.

But you are not Ted Mosby, she is not Robin Scherbatsky, and this isn't some poorly-ended TV show. She is gone and she is gone for good, and you need to accept that. But still, nothing lasts forever. Maybe they will break up, maybe John will kick the bucket first. You wonder if she'll wait for you then...


	2. Chapter 2

Don't be sad, it's not okay to be sad. A very long time ago you had to promise yourself to never be sad ever again. Yet here you are, crying your eyes out before your own wedding. You have been sitting in your dressing room for nearly an hour, trying to force yourself to stop crying but to no avail. Being sad is incredibly selfish of you and you have no right. Your name is ROXY LALONDE and you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

Just outside that door there is a kind, handsome, wonderful man waiting for you, and standing next to him is the love of your life. Cronus Ampora, your best friend in the entire world, is not the man you are going to marry and remembering this just keeps your tears flowing. You and Cronus have been friends since you could walk, but it became clear to you even before middle school that you liked him in a completely different way than he liked you. Don't be fooled, you had made every effort to try to tell him how you felt, but each of your half-baked schemes always seemed to fall flat. You remember when you were nine and you told him you wanted to know what kissing was like, and he offered to kiss you so you could both find out. You thought maybe, in your little nine-year-old mind, that after that he would be your boyfriend. After all, your first kiss was fireworks and butterflies, but only for you apparently because life went on just the same after that.

You tried to get over him, you earnestly did, but you've spent your whole life trying to find someone, ANYONE that could live up to that first kiss and no one had ever come close. There was your first boyfriend, Dirk, whom you knew was gay going into the relationship, but you didn't care. You don't know what you expected from him but were not in the least bit surprised when he broke up with you. It was nice, actually, because there was Cronus to pick you up. He let you cry on his shoulder and took you out for ice cream. It was a real, proper date without being a date, but you could pretend. Boy could you pretend...

Then there was Callie. You really did like Callie. She was your platonic soul mate and you loved her as much as two friends could love each other but she was sick when you met and she passed away not even a year later. Your tears for her were genuine and you were more grateful than ever to have Cronus, but it hurt more than ever to know he wasn't really _yours_.

You stayed away from others for a while after high school, and watched in agony as Cronus dated one person after another, it especially hurt whenever he would dabble in other men because you would always get scared that of all the reasons he never dated _you_ , you not being his preferred sex was the most heart breaking. Cronus may have had multitudes of relationships, but they were never particularly lengthy. His longest relationship was with a nasty know-it-all girl that treated him like dirt but that only went on for about three months. You could never understand why Cronus couldn't hold down a girlfriend. He was handsome, charming and incredibly charismatic, yet all his exes jump to call him irritable. You're secretly pleased, though, that they've spread this rumor of him being a horrible pig that no one should ever date. It keeps new suitors away and gives you plenty of time alone with him. It's the strangest thing, though, he never tries to refute the rumors and he never complains about them. You think you defend him more than he defends himself.

You spend a staggering amount of time with him for two people who aren't romantically involved. Both of you make it a point to at least text each other every day but that's only when you're too busy to have lunch together, or go to the movies, or just hang out after work. Hell, he practically lives at your house on weekends. You started your Friday night sleepover tradition in eighth grade, which quickly became Friday through Sunday sleepovers, and that lasted even after you graduated college. Each time he comes over you have to pray that he never realizes just how weird your time together is. If you're not falling asleep on the couch, you're sharing a bed.

It only got weirder when you started dating John.

You're still not sure why you did, it's not like you're in love with him, but he made you laugh and he wasn't the most awful person to hang around with. Spending time with John was always a good time and you didn't realize it but apparently you had spent two years with him. It scared you half to death when he popped the question at dinner a month ago--you hadn't even remembered that it was your anniversary. You were stunned at first, overwhelmed and unable to give him an answer. Like always John was more than understanding and said to take as much time as you needed. You had practically run out of the restaurant and immediately called Cronus. Just hearing his voice was calming for you. Without losing face you asked him to come over that night, you told him that you had picked up the new Hobbit movie on blu-ray which was a complete lie so before you even went home you had to go out and buy the damn thing.

It was different from all your other nights in together--there was no chatting or sassy commentary during the movie, you just curled up against him on the couch, cuddling him quietly for three hours. You were scared and anxious, John's proposal weighing heavily on your mind. All you wanted was to make it all go away, to pretend once more that Cronus wasn't _just_ your best friend--you wanted to pretend _he_ had proposed to you. As the credits began to roll, you blurted out your news and felt Cronus stiffen, but when you looked up at him he had the brightest smile on his face. He was excited. He congratulated you. Now you felt like you'd be letting him down if you said no to John. So you tried your best to match his enthusiasm yet still persisted that he sleep over, even after he joked about sleeping with a married woman. You didn't sleep that night, you just lied awake, regretting your life. You smile remembering it, though, because it was the last night you spent with Cronus and you remember how he had had the fish dream that night--sometimes he would dream he was a fish and his lips would go _glub glub glub_ against the back of your neck. You really liked the fish dream because you could pretend he was kissing you.

But the fish dream is just a distant memory and the hour is upon you where you will no longer be able to pretend. The reflection of your hideous wedding dress taunts you in the mirror. It was so ugly and so _very_ '80s, but John liked it. You got yourself into this mess and you had to live with it, so from now on you tried your best to please John just as you had always tried to please Cronus. It was _so hard_ though because John had such _terrible_ tastes. Luckily Cronus had always been there to advocate for you and tell John how stupid and ridiculous his ideas were, but at the end of the day you had to go along with John's ideas, you were marrying him, not Cronus.

But what if...what if you didn't? What if you just...ran away? You have no bridesmaids to talk you down, no one could stop you. You could just go and never look back. Take control of your life, put an end to this before it's too late. You do just that. You peep outside the door to make sure the coast is clear and bolt to the parking lot. You have nothing but your petticoat and keys, but the second you make it to your car, an even better idea strikes you: the dress in your trunk. A beautiful, embroidered mermaid tail dress Cronus got for you because he knew how much you hated the one John made you pick out. This was it, your greatest scheme ever--you would crash your own wedding. March down that aisle wearing the biggest 'FUCK YOU' in history and marry the man you should've been with all along. This was gold, this was a solid plan. You snatch the dress out of the trunk and sneak back into the building. You're pretty sure an usher saw you but who stops a bride going INTO her dressing room? You quickly clean yourself up--fix your make-up, slip into your new dress--you even put on your dark violet lipstick, the one you know Cronus likes so much, and as an extra middle finger to John you spritz some of the rose-scented perfume Cronus got you all those years ago. You're perfect, you're ready, and you inform the ushers to get this show on the road.

You're surprisingly calm as you wait for your cue. There are no doubts or regrets in your mind, not in this moment. From the other side of the doors you hear the quartet switch key as they start to play your song--the one you shared your first slow dance with Cronus to in middle school. Just as the doors swing open, the cellist hits a low note that makes your heart swell as you stride into the open air. It's a beautiful spring day, peonies and roses line every row of seats as everyone in attendance turns to you. Your eyes meet with Cronus' and your heart simply bursts with joy. _That_ is the look of a man in love, _that_ is how a man should look on his wedding day. The rest of the world fades away and you smile just for him--he looks at you like he might rush up the aisle, scoop you into his arms, and carry you away, and nothing in the world would make you happier. But wait, why is he turning away? No, no no he's looking at John. _John_. He does not look at all heart broken, like he has received the sickest of burns on this day. No, he looks like he's about to marry the woman he loves.

You have made a terrible mistake.

Your feet start to drag as the idiocy of this half-baked scheme hits you full force, but you can't stop now--you had your chance to run and you didn't take it. Panic floods you as you draw ever nearer the alter, your hands start to shake. You stop in front of Cronus and he just looks _so happy_ for you that suddenly, none of it matters. There is no way out of this, there is no knight in shining armor to rescue you--this is happening and you resign yourself to accept it.

You hand off your bouquet to him and kiss him on the cheek, lingering for a few seconds, lips pressed to his skin in the only proper goodbye you can muster, trying your damnedest not to burst into tears. You turn to John and the priest begins the ceremony. It's all a blur in your mind, one hazy confirmation of vows after another, and you could almost swear Cronus cleared his throat as if to say something at the, 'speak now or forever hold your peace' part, but you convince yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. Everyone is cheering and clapping, celebrating the most agonizing moment of your life. John leads you back down the aisle and you can feel Cronus trailing behind you, still wishing he'd step in and do something. Before you know it, you're in the car, driving away with your husband. You glance out the rearview window and see Cronus watching you drive away, your bouquet of purple peonies and pink roses still clutched in his hand and for the first time in your life you feel truly alone.

You sit back and listen as John blabbers on about your honeymoon plans. Maybe all hope is not lost. John won't live forever, maybe you'll get a second chance to make this right, even if you're just an old fool by then. Maybe, maybe he'll wait for you...


End file.
